Well if “misery loves company” then that shit is as much a lie as anything else I’ve seen, heard or been in total agreement with. Agreement seems too easy to say or write. I. Am Disgusted. With….because….despite…everything. Nothing. Sure as shit does not matter what I type into these keys upon my Samsung phone, the phone I saved and spent on almost 2 years ago for. Yay, right? RIGHT? You don’t care…about it or me or much of/about anything is what it seems.
I jumped off Facebook tonight, sick of reading post after post from men and women, some, many whom I adore. Who I eagerly check in or with via posts day after day after day after….well shit, they just never quit. Oh yeah some quit the book for reasons never fully explained or apparently get so busy with life on a daily basis they don’t have or make…take, I guess, the time anymore to “keep in touch” with the rest of us, of “me” certainly, or (as I suspect) become so busy every day with their life as it is that we, I, all of “us” are just too “who gives a fuck?” to bother.
And frankly, actually, WHY BOTHER. It sure as shit doesn’t matter a fucking bit to worry, wish, bother or care…much less “like,” comment, call, text or God forbid, CRY about any of it. Of you. YOU certainly don’t.
Over 4 years ago I nearly drank myself to death. Killed my liver, almost myself, most of my brain and was not expected to survive for the weekend I was forced, or die, to enter the hospital. “He’s not going to survive” was the common judgement on my self-created condition. And when miraculously I DID survive that first weekend it was soon forecasted that, yes I did live through the first couple of days, but the future, MY future didn’t look very promising.
My mom and family was convinced to prepare for the worst, at least physically and mentally for my said future. The doctor and nurses all agreed that I was a lost cause, no chance for any life to be lived.
But….I did make it. 2 months in the ‘all is hopeless’ unit and close the door. Right? RIGHT? Yeah, right.
But God had different plans for me. I was eventually released from the Alzheimer unit of the “ward” I had been moved into and released into my own “care.”
I had done my homework and chosen Rehab. The 24-hour, 30-day home I had been accepted to was ready for me. So I went….for 10 days until I was so sick of being picked on and messed with I decided “Fuck this” and I left.
4 years later, in February of 2014, less than a year ago I was ready for an actual rebirth so I moved to Portland, Oregon, after….wait for it, I had been run over by a friend’s truck while on my scooter and hospitalized, YET AGAIN, with body and mind injuries that had the medical community expecting me to not make it or maybe “just make it” with a brain injury that would leave me suffering or sucking, not dick (as I often want or wish) but just as a man less than….than I am today.
Yep. I made it. Moved to Portland and jumped into it and the AA scene and any that accepted me full on. And? IT SUCKED. It didn’t seem that anybody really cared, not enough to call or contact me to be ‘a part of’ any group or scene that they were of or with.
And so after almost 5 months of devotion to AA and the peeps (ok, guys) I’d become ‘friends’ with I realized “I didn’t survive everything from HIV, to alcoholism, to depression to being alone, AGAIN, to beg for all of your acceptance. God and I had walked through a LOT and I didn’t want, certainly not need, ANY of you or this. Nope. Done fine without any of you so far so…BYE.
Looking at my day to day, what I had achieved and what was going on or the LACK THERE OF, I listened to my new doctor’s comments on my much, much improved health and possible future and decided: enough. Nobody cares, actually, honestly, about, with, by or for me do they? Once again it’s Jesus and myself walking together and not that any of you care enough to call, write, message or reach out to me. Fuck the new people here don’t much less you that I’ve known for nearly 4 years, much less a handful of you who I have known and dated and loved and opened up to for the last 15-20 years! Excuse me but FUCK YO…FUCK NO.
“Alone again, naturally” pops into mind.
OHHH BOO HOO I hear some of you saying, laughing, screaming. And I think “Well, yeah. WTF did you think, hope or want, fucker?”
I’ll tell you. I wanted a phone call. An invitation. A sweet or maybe a rough kiss on my lips late at night…on a beach or in a river. I wanted to MISS SONEONE as much as I WAS BEING MISSED. God, a “Hey how are you, where you been?” call maybe?
Know what? Good fucking luck. Because it’s most likely NOT happening baby.
People, women, relatives, men-gay or straight (UGH who cares!) are BUSY. Busy living, loving or fucking, or looking to live love and fuck with whomever they deem worthy today, Friday, September 20th 2014.
AND. I AND YOU ARE NOT A PART OF THEM.
Need a phone call? Get in line, there’s 1000 people ahead of you, again.
BOO-GOO, again. Kiss yourself good night, again.